


blood red sandman

by kimaracretak



Category: Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Bittersweet, Gen, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24433021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak
Summary: Post-Family Reunion, Veya and Naryu face the dawn.
Relationships: Veya Releth & Naryu Virian
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Writing Rainbow Make Up Round





	blood red sandman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kartaylir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kartaylir/gifts).



> Once again there is pain  
> I bring flames - I bring cold  
> I'm the Blood Red Sandman coming home
> 
> veya comma hurtling through oblivion yelling along to lordi at the top of her voice,  
> (that doesn't have anything to do with the fic i just like the image. it was born of five shots of gin not fifteen of vodka but it's the thought that counts?)

Veya bleeds the whole way back to Balmora, even with the worst of her wounds bandaged, and Naryu knows already that the crimson staining her leathers is there to stay. It's the least she owes her, after everything - discomfort is a small price to pay for what her failure has done to Veya's life. If she wanted to be sentimental about it later, she could even say she was doing it to give part of Veya a chance to live the life that she deserved.

Then again, Veya deserves a lot of things, and while death isn't one of them, Naryu wishes she could say that whatever she pulls out of the wreckage of the past week is. 

But they have a very long rest of the night to get through before dealing with such concerns. Veya's weight is not insignificant, daggers and all, and every time her head lolls back over Naryu's arm she freezes, wondering if Veya's gone limp from death rather than exhaustion. But there's always something - a breath, a murmur, the curl of Veya's fingers against Naryu's gloves - always Veya.

The city's still locked down, even though news of what happened at the garrison can't have traveled yet. Ashur meets them at the sewer grates, helps her stand Veya up between them. "This what we call taking care of things?" he asks, but she can tell he's not as angry as he wants to be.

"Shut up and heal her." She wraps Veya's arm around her waist, doesn't so much walk her as drag her down the sodden stones to what passed for their home these days. Veya gives only a mumbled protest, her limbs so heavy and uncoordinated that Naryu isn't even sure she's conscious. Maybe it's for the best.

For once, Ashur does what he's told with only minimal complaints, though he leaves again as quickly as possible, muttering something about bringing Naryu's other little pet project back a different way, and Naryu is left alone to take stock of the woman in front of her.

Veya looks small, spread out on the table - pale and ragged as if the last few days have sapped the very life from her. Everything had changed impossibly quickly after they found Ulran, and the sharp child and the eager apprentice are both gone, ripped up by loss and scattered to the wind without the finality of a writ. All that's left is exhausted, angry bones and too much blood, and soon Naryu is going to lose even that.

"You should have waited, Veya." She reaches over as Veya opens her eyes and brushes the hair from her face. It tears away from the gash over her cheekbone, and Naryu's hand comes away sticky with yet more blood. "We were recovering. Meriath knew what was going on, I - I would have gotten your writ."

Veya rolls over onto her side, blinking up at Naryu. "Wouldn't've mattered," she says. Her voice is hoarse, for all her throat is undamaged, the lingering gold of Ashur's healing clinging to her skin like morning mist on the canal. "The whole house is rotten through. No one would let me kill them all."

"And you would have tried." It hurts more than she expects, knowing that her own failures had lead Veya to that point. She'd been a sister, a friend, a mentor, and none of it had been good enough. Having someone like Meriath keeping secrets for her feels like a pitiful return.

Veya reaches out for her hand, skin cold even through Naryu's glove. "I would keep you out of it if I did it again," she says, and it's not an answer to any question Naryu's asked, but it's an answer all the same. Veya thinks she matters, Veya understands what she did - 

She needs a drink. They both do, but getting the wine means letting go of Veya's hand, and she's not ready to do that. Not yet. "You can't do it again. Promise me, Veya, promise me you'll try to live after this."

Veya smiles, the most saddest smile Naryu's ever seen. "You're asking a lot of a dead woman. Bodies are just another day for us, remember?"

Naryu flinches, despite herself, and Veya's grip tightens in response, drawing her closer. "Not in Summerset. You won't be dead. You'll start over, you'll - you'll be rid of the Releth name, and of the House." _And of me_.

"I still believe in us." Her sincerity is sharp enough to kill. "Naryu, I just want you to know that I - I wanted to be part of the Morag Tong, I still do. But I can't want it more than anything, not like you do."

Veya's eyes are slipping closed again, and Naryu wonders if she'll dream of the dead. Wonders if she wants her to.

"Veya," she says. "Veya..."

She doesn't know what else she wants to say. Hates herself, almost, for being glad she doesn't have to say out loud that wanting and being Morag Tong have always been difficult to reconcile.

She can reach the bottle while keeping hold of Veya's hand, after all. Doesn't bother with a glass.

Morning dawns, or at least she assumes it does. Veya wakes up, at least, and Naryu passes her the wine as she struggles to sit. "Drink up," she says. "We've still got the road to Vivec City ahead of us."

Veya obeys - for the first and last time, Naryu thinks, and she's almost surprised she finds the thought funny. Veya smiles sleepily over the rim of the bottle, and it almost feels like last night never happened. "One more road," she says. "Who knows where it could lead?"

"Away from here," Naryu says. It's not nearly as firm as she'd like it to sound.

"You know what I mean," Veya says, handing the wine back, and - yes, she does, she knows her friend too well, and she wonders if Veya hadn't been counting on that all along. "You, me, your writs, the Morag Tong's reputation beautiful, my new name as you bring me back into Mephala's web..."

Naryu swallows hard, too hard. Chokes on the wine as the empty bottle clatters to the floor. "One day," she says, when she recovers and Veya's still smiling, secret and sad.

It could be anything. It sounds like a lie.

Naryu doesn't wonder why.


End file.
